When we first set out to grow competitive ice climbing in Canada, I thought it would feel like climbing a steep, pristine ice wall — tough, yes, but at least straightforward. Turns out, it’s more like navigating a melting glacier during a snowstorm, while someone keeps moving the finish line.
And yet here we are — still swinging tools, still moving upward.
As Chair of Ice Climbing Canada (ICC), I’ve had a front-row seat to the grit, passion, and sometimes ridiculous moments it takes to build a national team and community in a sport that, frankly, most Canadians still don’t realize exists. We’ve faced some classic Canadian problems: no money, no official recognition, no magical pot of funding hiding behind a snowdrift. But we’ve also witnessed something even better — a group of athletes, volunteers, and supporters who show up anyway.
We’ve gone from a handful of climbers figuring it out as we go, to hosting tryouts, sending athletes to World Cups, building youth programs, and advocating to put Canada on the world ice climbing map. We’ve brought more transparency to how the team is selected — because every athlete deserves to know the path. We’ve written policies, applied for grants, convinced gyms to open their doors to drytooling, and even made pitches to transform iconic Canadian venues into world-class climbing hubs.
Behind all of that are real humans — tired, hopeful, occasionally wondering if they’re wearing the right kind of crampons for the situation. (Spoiler: sometimes they’re not.)
And then came Ouray. That event was a turning point for me. I saw our potential with our athletes there — even as we overcame some, let’s call it, “creative” organizational issues. But despite all that, we showed up. We left our mark. It was incredible to see so many of our athletes stand proud on that stage. The world now knows we exist. Now we just need to keep showing up.
I’ve learned something on this journey: building a sport like this in Canada takes an army. Not just athletes, but also volunteers, coaches, parents, sponsors, and people willing to take a chance on something a little weird and a little wonderful.
So this is your invitation — whether you climb, cheer, organize, or just think ice axes look cool — come help us take it further. We’re building something that matters, not just for our athletes now but for the next generation of Canadians who’ll dream bigger because of it.
And if you’ve ever wanted to swing an ice tool while also herding cats, trust me — there’s a spot on this team for you.
Let’s keep moving upward. Together.
— Jonathan Blackwood
Chair, Ice Climbing Canada
